


Do It Again

by yourrhinestoneeyes



Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Binge Drinking, M/M, hang overs, sleeping in bath tubs with your friend, throwing up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-26
Updated: 2014-08-26
Packaged: 2018-02-14 20:14:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2201619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourrhinestoneeyes/pseuds/yourrhinestoneeyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drinking is great, Pickles knows that better than anyone, but hang overs are a living Hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do It Again

When Pickles woke up he didn't even want to open his eyes or be alive for that matter. The pain going through his skull felt as if somebody had beaten him with a baseball bat for an hour straight. His mouth tasted like vomit, whatever surface he was lying on smelled like vomit, and his stomach felt like somebody was squeezing it as hard as they could. He felt like Hell on Earth; he loved to drink, but on so many levels of Hell he hated the morning after a night or in his case a day of drinking. He opened his eyes groaning, he thanked God the curtains of whatever hotel room he was in were closed though sunlight still managed to filter its overly bright way through the fibers of the off green curtains. In another ten minutes he managed to move his body, but the second that he sat up the nauseous pain in his gut sent him stumbling towards the bathroom. He just managed to make it to the toilet, he knelt before it throwing up whatever the hell could even be in his stomach right now. He did his best to not look knowing it would only make him start throwing up all over again. Pickles slumped back away from the toilet, back against the opposite wall; the surface felt cold against his bare too warm skin. This felt nice, the tiles felt cold on his ass, and the cold against his head made the pain feel less like his brain would explode. Loud groans from the adjoining room sent shivers through his body, God he was not okay with sounds right now. 

“Dude where the fuck are we?” Nathan asked voice slightly muffled by whatever he had his face buried against.

“I dunno dude, fucking some state or country. I don't remember much.” Pickles called back, the sound of his own voice made his head hurt.

Two seconds later he was leaning over the toilet bowl again.

“Could you not do that, I'm gonna fucking puke if you keep doing that....God you got puke on the fucking bed, great job jackass.”

Pickles sat back rubbing his arm across his mouth.

“I feel like hell dude, what do ya want me to do just fucking hold it in? How do you know you didn't fucking puke on the bed?”

“Probably, because I don't puke when I fucking drink. You're a fucking light weight.”

Pickles pressed the palm of his hand against his forehead, God he wasn't in the mood for shouted conversations.

“Could you just come in here so we can talk, I don't feel like shouting. It's too fucking early dude.”

“Why don't you come back in here, fucking clean up after yourself for once.”

“Fuck you dude, come in here.”

He heard movement from the other room, a shoe sailed past him landing in the bath tub.

“What the fuck was that for?”

“Get in here asshole.”

“Fuck off I'm taking a shower.” 

The drummer pulled himself from the nice cold spot on the floor, flushed the toilet, removed his shoe from the tub throwing it back into the other room hoping he at least hit Nathan in the leg with it. From the silence he heard he apparently had missed completely. Fuck it, he'd just hit him later. Pickles turned the water on in the shower stepping in under the barely warm spray. The water felt good, this felt nice; he could seriously just wash up some and then sit on the floor of the tub and pass the fuck out. That sounded like a good plan right now. He leaned his forehead against the shower wall, the dreads on top of his head fell forward falling down over his face. Two large arms wrapped around his waist and he felt a large body press against his back.

“Hey douche bag” Nathan said his normal growling voice slightly lower than usual.

He always tried to whisper when he was hung over, though he never got the idea of keeping his voice quiet down right. Pickles smirked, he placed a hand over Nathan's.

“Why did you throw a fucking shoe at me?”

“Cause you got puke over like half the fucking bed.”

“So, you fucking pissed in my suitcase last week you asshole.” 

Nathan grunted, he dropped the subject and instead nuzzled against the older man's back.

“What do you wanna do today?”

“Pass the fuck out, maybe in here....Bed smells like vomit.”

“I'm not sleeping in a fucking tub, it's small.”

“Fine sleep on the floor, I'm sleeping in here dude.” 

Pickles turned the water off, Nathan released him. As expected the black haired man situated himself on the floor of the tub, he glared at the drummer who easily fit in the small tub. Pickles propped his legs over the edge of the tub, he smirked at the larger man.

“You're like comically fucking big dude.” He said laughing.

“Don't make me throw another shoe at you.”

“Yeah yeah whatever....What you wanna do later?”

“Get drunk again, somewhere else though.”

“Sounds good to me man”

“Come here”

Pickles moved so that he was settled on the younger man's lap, Nathan wrapped an arm around him. The drummer rest his head against the larger man's broad chest. Tubs weren't the most comfortable place to pass out in, but they were more comfortable if you had somebody to sleep on.


End file.
